


send my love (to your new lover)

by gasmsinc



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Nanny, Anal Sex, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Rimming, Single Parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-04-05 20:23:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19047745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gasmsinc/pseuds/gasmsinc
Summary: “We’ll call every hour,” Patrick promises for the umpteenth time. He takes Penny’s wrist, waving. “I’ll miss you Papa, I love you.”“You don’t even notice when I leave the room.”“That’s neither here nor there,” says Patrick cheerily before he shuts the door in Jonny’s face.aka the one where jonny is a single dad and patrick is his baby's nanny





	send my love (to your new lover)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [luxmachina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/luxmachina/gifts).



> this is for jackie who said fuck dem kids so 1988 could live

Jonathan Toews makes it eleven years into his career before he fucks up and knocks up a one night stand some time during the middle of the off-season. Jackie decides halfway through her pregnancy that she doesn’t want to be a mother, and that’s how Jonny ends up a single dad at thirty-two. Maman moves down from Winnipeg and helps him for a whole six months before she has enough and uses his credit card to hire an agency to find a nanny for Penelope, and that’s how Jonny ends up with an acne-prone, wide-eyed teenager on his doorstep.

“ _You’re_ the nanny?”

The teenager nods, giving Penny an over-exaggerated smile before he swoops her right out of Jonny’s arms. “My name’s Patrick,” the boy says as he manages to wiggle his way past Jonny and right into the house. “I did my interview with Ms. Andrée.”

Maman _had_ told him that she had finally hired the perfect nanny for Penny, which had been a relief, because between interviews with the media and road trips and home games and caring for Penny, Jonny didn’t know when he was supposed to interview a potential nanny. Maman hadn’t said much about the nanny, except that they were a bit young but highly qualified. When Maman had said _a bit young_ , Jonny had thought she meant late-twenties, not fresh out of high school.

“You—” Jonny says, standing in the doorway still. “You’re—how _old_ are you?”

“I’m nineteen,” says Patrick, managing to get a gurgled, happy laugh right out of Penny by tickling her tummy. He frowns at Jonny. “Did Ms. Andrée not tell you that I was coming today?”

“She did,” Jonny answers, turning away to shut the door. Patrick’s left his suitcase outside, which means that he’s actually here to stay, and that this isn’t some sort of elaborate joke that Maman is playing on him. “I just expected—” Jonny isn’t sure what _exactly_ he expected, but he at least expected someone older, and maybe British, and a _woman_. “I thought nannies were—” he flaps his hand dismissively as he brings Patrick’s suitcase in with the other. “You know…”

“Women?” Patrick offers.

Jonny grunts non-communicatively, feeling like an asshole when Patrick gives him a disappointed look.

“It’s 2019,” Patrick says in explanation, which is the modern day way of saying _you’re being an misogynistic asshole_.

“Right,” says Jonny, not knowing what else to say.

Patrick just stands there holding Penny, who looks unfazed by the whole situation. She’s always been an easy going baby that doesn’t fuss much, and doesn’t care who’s holding her, as long as she’s been fed and has a clean diaper. Her chilled attitude makes her the perfect baby, but fuels every one of Jonny’s someone’s-going-to-kidnap-my-baby nightmares.

“Maybe you should show me to my room?” Patrick offers, looking like he might never hand Penny back over. It makes Jonny just a little angry that Patrick’s actually holding her correctly. He’s a _teenager_. What does he know about baby needs?

“Yeah,” he breathes, outwardly frowning. Where did the agency even _find_ this kid?

Patrick frowns right back. “I don’t have to be Penny’s nanny, if you don’t want me to be, Mr. Toews,” he says, sounding absolutely devastated and looking the part too, his rosy pink lips pouting, big baby blues all soft.

This is probably how he conned Maman into hiring him.

Jonny grunts annoyedly, because it’s working on him too. Patrick’s a sweet looking kid, but obviously an evil genius. “I—why don’t we do a trial? For a week. You’ll be Penny’s nanny for a week, and we’ll see how it goes, okay?”

Patrick immediately stops pouting, lighting up like a Christmas tree. “Okay!” he agrees, bouncing Penny on his hip, eliciting a happy little laugh out of her. “We’re going to have a fun week, aren’t we, Penelope?” Penny garbles her answer, reaching up with her little chubby fingers to take a hold of Patrick’s absolutely horrendous, gaudy gold chain.

Jonny ticks the chain off as a mark against him before leading Patrick to his room.

 

 

Four days into their week-long trial, the gaudy-ass chain is the only thing that Jonny can hold against Patrick.

He checks the nanny camera religiously between intermissions and before and after practice, but Patrick’s a diligent caretaker who promptly changes Penny’s diaper, keeps to her feeding schedule, and spends copious amounts of time lying on the floor with her during tummy time, demonstrating over and over again how to roll over. He’s _good_ with Penny, and she’s happy with him, if her gummy smiles Jonny catches on the camera or when he comes home from morning skate, are anything to go by.

Patrick, despite Jonny’s initial reservations, actually knows what he’s doing, despite looking like he’s only a few years older than Penny. He’s quick and effective and kind, and actually looks disappointed when Jonny comes home after practice and takes over, like he already doesn’t want to be separated from Penny. It’s quite endearing, seeing the little frown at the corner of his mouth when he hands her over, and then the happy little grin hours later when Jonny has to hand Penny over so he can make it to the UC on time.

By the end of the week, Jonny _has_ to admit defeat and begrudgingly sign a contract, hiring one Patrick Timothy Kane II, born 19 November _2000_ , to be his beloved daughter’s nanny. Patrick can’t even buy himself a drink to celebrate, but he smiles happily as he signs his name in a flourish right there at the kitchen island, all bright-eyed and acne-prone and seemingly truly happy that he’s passed Jonny’s trial.

“I’m very glad to be working with you and Penny, Mr. Toews,” he grins, spit-up-towel over his shoulder, looking out of place with his youthful face. He looks like he should be off to 12th grade English class, not on his way to burp a baby and get her ready for a trip to the zoo that she’ll never remember.

“Yeah,” Jonny agrees, studying Patrick for a moment longer, but the teenager doesn’t break under his scrutiny, only manages to give him one more bright grin before he turns away to start on mixing Penny’s formula.

Jonny watches Patrick with a critical eye, waiting for him to mess up as something as simple as getting formula ready, but when Patrick perfects the steps without any hiccups, he admits defeat and turns away to finish getting ready for his own day.

 

 

Patrick settles into Penny’s schedule, and by default, Jonny’s, with surprising ease. Games are set in stone for the season baring any weather-related emergencies, and morning skate’s and practices for the most part too, unless Jeremy is unhappy with their performance as a team, but media and PR and Blackhawks-sponsored events and _life_ in general are all sometimes up in the air. Patrick’s guaranteed a minimum of two days off per week, but Jonny can never guarantee that the two days are consecutive or the same days each week, and on game nights he’s not getting home until quarter to midnight, while other days he’s home no later than five after noon.

No one day is like the next, which probably leaves Patrick’s head reeling on some days more than others, especially when practice ends early or the front office asks Jonny to do a last-minute PR event. It’s confusing and difficult for all three of them, especially when Jonny informs Patrick the day of that it’s his day off.

Despite all of this, Patrick takes everything in stride, adjusting to last minute changes to the schedule with his signature, soft, smile and a “sure thing, Mr. Toews”, or a combination of thumbs up emojis and smiley faces. He’s good-natured about everything, which makes it easier when the first major road trip of the year rolls around.

The Blackhawks are heading out to California for a _whole five days_ , which means that Jonny has to leave Penny for a _whole five days_. He’s done road trips before, but Penny’s always been left in Maman’s care. It’s not that he doesn’t trust Patrick, because he does, obviously, he’s leaving Penny alone in his care five days out of the week, but it’s a whole five days where he won’t be immediately accessible. This would be the time for Penny to swallow bleach or bash her head on a sharp corner or get kidnapped.

“We’ll check in every day, Mr. Toews,” Patrick promises from where he’s on the floor doing tummy time with Penny. She’s teething now, and a bit grumpy, but she likes her tummy time and can push herself up on her arms and attempt to sit up by herself.

Usually Penny does her tummy time in her nursery or in the living room, but tonight Patrick has her on her mat in Jonny’s bedroom as he packs for the upcoming road trip. It’s weird to see him down there, since he’s never crossed the threshold into Jonny’s room before, but despite no games or practices today, Jonny has endorsement deal meetings and a meet-and-greet event later, and well, at this point, they have to take whatever time they have to discuss Penny’s well-being. “We’ll even FaceTime if you want, every hour on the dot, even when you’re kicking the Kings’ asses.”

Jonny pauses where he’s putting socks in his suitcase. “Are you making funny of me?”

“No, why would I ever do that, Mr. Toews?” Patrick says, voice airy and light, a grin on his face, which means that he’s making light of the situation. Jonny wants to be annoyed, irritated at Patrick’s dismissal of such a monumental moment in Penny’s life, but his face is relaxed and playful, and he doesn’t mean anything cruel by it.

Jonny goes back to packing his socks. “Make sure to call when I score.”

Patrick chuckles, smiling wide before his attention returns to Penny. He pushes himself up on his knees before gently pulling Penny into his lap and dangling her toy key ring in front of her. Even after Penny manages to grab it and stuff it into her mouth, officially bringing an end to tummy time, Patrick remains sitting on the floor with her as Jonny packs his suitcase.

It’s quiet and comfortable and the most intimate moment Jonny’s had with another person since Penny’s birth.

It’s, dare he say, _nice_.

 

 

Jonny leaves for the road trip on Wednesday morning after an emotional goodbye on his part where he doesn’t cry, but gives Patrick the morning off so that he can get Penny ready for the day and have a long conversation with her about the house rules. By the end of the one-sided conversation, Penny looks unfazed and fully prepared to shove him right out the door. She’s at that age where she recognizes him but doesn’t actually notice his absence. It’s still hurtful when she turns her head away from his copious amount of goodbye kisses on the door step.

“We’ll call every hour,” Patrick promises for the umpteenth time. He takes Penny’s wrist, waving. “I’ll miss you Papa, I love you.”

“You don’t even notice when I leave the room.”

“That’s neither here nor there,” says Patrick cheerily before he shuts the door in Jonny’s face.

It’s easy to allow Penny to fall to the back of his mind on the plane. Sharpy’s always doing something to distract and annoy him, and the rookies always want to talk strategy. It’s an easy four hours to get through, but the twinges of longing start as soon as he settles into his hotel room. Usually the twinges are easy to stuff down with a _you’ll see your baby girl tomorrow_ , but he has a full four days and three grueling games to get through before he can hold her in his arms again. She’ll be driving by the time he makes it home.

He holds out for a full two hours before he caves and shoots Patrick a message. All he wants to know is how Penny’s doing, if she enjoyed her trip to the zoo, and _maybe_ get a picture. Patrick has always been subtle and efficient in their text exchanges, getting straight to the point, but today he throws all restraint out the window and bombards Jonny with a series of photos of Penny all wrapped up and strapped to his chest. _Technically_ they’re mostly selfies, Patrick’s wide, bright smile shining through, even when he manages to get Penny to crack one too.

It’s—

The gap between Patrick’s teeth is weirdly endearing, along with the spot of acne on his nose and the way his cheeks are bright red from the cold.

Jonny purses his lips and tells himself that he’s only saving the photos for Penny.

 

 

Patrick doesn’t keep to his promise of FaceTiming every hour on the dot, but he does give Jonny daily updates and sends a multitude of pictures, some with him in them but mostly just of Penny.

Jonny pretends not to be upset when he doesn’t get a selfie.

The team goes 3-0 on the road trip, the best record they’ve had out in California for the first time in a few years, so when they touchdown in Chicago just after midnight, Jonny is exhausted but happy, and not expecting for anyone in the house to be awake.

Patrick’s waiting up for him in the living room, Jonny’s favorite throw blanket draped over his legs with the rest of him stuffed into a sweater three times too big for him. He’s blurry eyed, blond curls all over the place as he hits Jonny with a lazy smile. “Penny wouldn’t go to bed. She wanted to stay up and wait for you, but I got her down eventually.” He yawns, eyes squinty with the need to sleep. “She’s going to be really grumpy for you in the morning.”

“And you?” Jonny resists the urge to reach out and tuck one of Patrick’s curls behind his ear. “What are you still doing up?”

Patrick shrugs. “Thought someone should wait up for you.”

Jonny tries to keep the corner of his mouth from turning up in a smile, endeared. “Lucky it’s your day off tomorrow, eh?”

Patrick nods, crawling off the couch like a toddler. He leaves the throw blanket tossed up near the cushions, not how Jonny likes it, but he’s tired, and Patrick is too, and there’s no point in kicking up a fuss this late at night.

“You don’t have to wait up for me, you know,” Jonny says after they’ve made their way up the stairs. Patrick’s standing outside his bedroom door, leaning against it like a lifeline. The tiredness on him makes him look younger than nineteen, and Jonny suddenly has a need to wrap him up tight in a blanket and shield him from the world.

It’s a startling feeling that makes all the sleepiness drain from his body.

Patrick is Penny’s _nanny_ for god’s sake.

“Penny’s not gonna do it,” says Patrick, before opening his door. “Well, goodnight, Mr. Toews.” He hesitates for just one second like he wants to say more, eyes focusing on Jonny’s mouth before his skin starts to turn pink and he stumbles into his room and closes the door, leaving Jonny standing in the hallway, contemplating his life and his choices, and the muddled, protective feelings he’s starting to have about his teenage nanny.

It takes Jonny a good five minutes to collect himself.

 

 

Penny is grumpy in the morning like Patrick promised. She wakes up crying, teething and hungry and probably confused to see him, but Jonny manages to get her diaper changed and down in the kitchen in her high-chair in record time, Cheerios spread out in front of her as he prepares her formula.

“Patrick said that you were mean to him,” he says as he tests the temperature of the milk on his wrist. It’s just warm enough that it won’t burn her, but not cold enough that she’ll kick up a fuss and not drink it. She takes her bottle happily, strong enough now that she can hold it and drink from it without much assistance.

She’s growing up too fast.

“You can’t be mean to Patrick, that’s rude, and you’ll hurt his feelings.”

Penny does not seem to care. She sucks on her bottle, paying him little attention.

“When Patrick tells you to go to bed, you go to bed, young lady.”

“She just wanted to see her daddy,” Patrick says, wandering into the kitchen, still in his oversized sweater and hair a mess. He makes a silly face at Penny, which causes her to set her bottle down and laugh.

Jonny frowns. “It’s your day off.”

Patrick shrugs, rummaging through the pantry for some cereal. “‘m hungry,” he says as he finds what he’s looking for. Jonny doesn’t like having overly-processed and sugary food in the house, but this is Patrick’s home now too, so he lets the Capn Crunch go, even though he frowns at the whole milk.

Patrick takes a seat at the island, right next to Penny so he can make faces at her while he eats his cereal. “She wasn’t being mean to me, she just wanted to see her papa.”

“She should listen to you.”

“I’ll forgive her this time,” Patrick says, reaching over to poke Penny in the tummy. Penny giggles, and then stuffs the nipple of her bottle back in her mouth, looking at Jonny with her big brown eyes. Jonny tries not to smile at her so she doesn’t smile back or start to laugh and choke. When she’s done, she drops her bottle on the floor with a loud thump. It only takes two seconds before she starts to cry.

Patrick retrieves the bottle for her. “Don’t throw your bottle, Pens. It’s not nice.” Penny quiets down as soon as the bottle is back, stuffing the nipple in her mouth to chew as she sets her eyes on Patrick, smiling around the nipple. Patrick smiles back adoringly, eyes soft and loving for a baby that he’s only been taking care of for a few weeks now.

Jonny wonders if Patrick is always this enamored to every baby he meets, or if it’s just Penny.

Penny takes the bottle from her mouth again, shaking it in her hand as she garbles something that could sound like a word but isn’t quite one yet. Jonny’s waiting impatiently for the day when she finally utters “papa”, but she’s stubbornly holding out, despite having two teeth and some form of motor-control. It’s alright though, she’s only a baby, and delaying her first word will only be sweeter when she finally decides to speak.

“You have fun with Papa today, okay?” Patrick says to Penny, taking her bottle from her to wipe her mouth with her bib, absentminded in his attentions. “I’ll see you tonight, yeah?”

“It’s your day off,” Jonny reminds him again. He doesn’t mind Patrick wiping Penny’s mouth, but he’s been alone with her for five days straight, and he _needs_ a break. It’s in his contract.

Patrick just smiles charmingly. “Can’t miss my date for tummy time.”

“It’s—” Jonny’s stops himself from saying _it’s your day off_ again. “I can do tummy time with her.”

The look Patrick gives him is easy, comfortable. “We’ll do tummy time together,” he says, just like that, before he puts his bowl in the sink. “It’ll be good for her.” And then he gives Penny a kiss on the forehead before he leaves the kitchen, giving Jonny no time to protest.

 

 

Patrick shows up for tummy time looking tired but comfortable in pajamas, crossing the threshold into Penny’s nursery with a happy step, settling onto the floor on his stomach easily next to her.

Penny pushes herself up into a sitting position, shaking her arms excitedly before she reaches over to try and take Patrick’s curls in hand.

“It’s not nice to pull my hair,” Patrick tells her, taking a hold of her hand and tickling her tummy. Penny erupts into happy giggles before she turns herself onto her hands and knees, rocking back and forth. She’s not crawling yet, but she’s right on the cusp. Jonny’s sure any day now that he’ll blink and then she’ll be gone, zooming her way towards the stairs and sudden death. Baby gates. He needs to install baby gates.

“I bet she’ll start crawling tomorrow,” Patrick observes, still lying on his stomach and patting Penny’s fingers with his own. The only person actually doing tummy time is Patrick, but he looks unfazed and content just to lie there on the floor.

“You shouldn’t—” Jonny starts. He’s not actually bothered by Patrick being here. It’s nice to have another adult in the house to speak to because Patrick actually talks back, but there’s a contract for a reason. Patrick gets two days off a week, come rain or shine or last minute PR events. “You shouldn’t be working right now.”

Patrick rolls onto his back to look at Jonny. Penny is immediately on him, using his stomach as some sort of clutch to try and stand, even though her legs aren’t strong enough yet. “I’m not working right now.”

Jonny raises his eyebrows.

Patrick smiles. “I’m on a date.”

“A date,” Jonny repeats, skeptic.

“Yeah, with my Penny girl.” Patrick’s tongue pokes out the corner of his mouth playfully. “And you too, I guess.”

Something turns in Jonny’s stomach, feeling briefly like butterflies before the feeling disappears, settling into something more akin to glee. He squishes the feeling down, scooping Penny off the floor to distract him. “Shouldn’t you be out with friends?”

“Well, it’s a Monday,” says Patrick, frowning. “And I don’t—I haven’t made any friends here, yet.” The last part comes out sounding forced and quite frankly, a little bit sad.

 _Oh_. Jonny hadn’t thought—Patrick must be very lonely. It can’t be easy to make friends when you’re too young to get into a bar. Jonny just assumed that when Patrick left the house on his lunch break or day off that it was to meet friends, but it’s probably just been to go out by himself.

“I can introduce you to some of the guys on the team,” Jonny offers. “Dominik and Henri are the same age as you, I think.”

“I—” Patrick purses his lips together. “Thanks, I guess.”

Jonny nods, turning his back to dance with Penny back and forth, his trick for getting her to go down for bedtime.

Patrick remains on the floor, watching him.

 

 

Henri and Dominik are more than happy to be Patrick’s friend. All three are too young to get into any real trouble, not that any of them seem interested in doing anything but binge watching trashy reality television on Jonny’s couch. Jonny will sometimes buy them beer like a dad with three teenage sons because he’d rather they drink in the house than end up booked for underage drinking or worse, plastered all over TMZ.

Sometimes Jonny will join them, sprawled out on the couch, nursing his own beer if Penny’s gone down for bed, but mostly Penny is there, corralled in a play pen or balancing on Jonny’s lap, just happy to be a part of the group, and it’s not like Dominik and Henri don’t spoil her with attention and toys and clothes and anything they see that they think she’ll like.

(Jonny knows that they like Patrick, and that they like him too, but he thinks that Henri and Dominik secretly come over sometimes just to hang out with Penny.)

It’s during one of these visits that Dominik brings up bi-week. Henri is sick, but he sent Dominik along with cookies to give to Penny, despite Jonny, and even Patrick, telling the both of them that Penny can’t eat cookies, not yet at least. It’s probably just an excuse for Dominik to have cookies, since he opened the box as soon as he arrived despite Jonny’s frown. “I’m excited for our holiday.”

“Holiday?” Patrick echoes, brows scrunching in confusion.

Jonny nods, spooning more purée carrots into Penny’s mouth. “It’s the bi-week.”

“The bi-week,” Patrick repeats.

“The team is going to Cabo,” Dominik supplies helpfully. “You should come too.”

Something unreadable passes over Patrick’s face. He frowns, playing nervously with the hand towels hanging from the side of the island. “I—”

“Patrick will be working,” Jonny interrupts.

Patrick looks at him with confusion. “Working?”

Jonny hadn’t planned to bring Patrick with him during bi-week. It’s just him and Penny, and all he plans to do is golf, which he can do with her strapped to his chest, and go to the pool. He can handle Penny by himself, but Dominik has, unknowingly, and without meaning to, put Patrick in an awkward position where he can’t admit that he can’t afford to go to Cabo. Jonny pays him well, but not enough to afford a last-minute trip to Cabo and stay in a five star hotel.

“Someone needs to look after Penny while I golf.”

Patrick lets out a breath, barely anything between his teeth. Dominik doesn’t notice, just continues to eat his cookies. “We can take Penny to the pool together,” he says happily. “I don’t like to golf.”

“Yeah,” Patrick agrees absentmindedly, giving Jonny a long look.

Dominik grins happily, clapping his hands at Penny. Penny grins at him, carrot all over her face as she begins to clap back.

When Dominik’s gone, Patrick finds Jonny in the living room as he catches up on football highlights. Penny’s gone down for her afternoon nap and will hopefully be out long enough that Jonny can just relax. He loves Penny, more than he loves any other human being on this planet, but it’s tiring always having to take care of her needs and make sure that she isn’t choking to death.

“Mr. Toews?” Patrick asks, hanging in the doorway linking the kitchen to the living room.

“Hm?” Jonny answers, eyes closed. There’s no game tonight, but he always feels weird if he doesn’t take his afternoon nap.

“You don’t have to take me to Cabo.”

Jonny’s eyes pop open. He sets his gaze on Patrick, who’s twiddling around with one of Penny’s toy key rings, looking unreasonably nervous. He hadn’t even looked nervous the first day he had shown up and swept Penny straight out of Jonny’s arms. “I need someone to watch Penny while I golf.”

Patrick continues to twiddle about. “You can play golf with the baby carrier.”

“You don’t. Dominik put you in an awkward place and—”

“I need someone to watch Penny while I golf,” Jonny repeats, more sternly this time.

Patrick opens his mouth and then immediately shuts it.

Jonny closes his eyes, ready to settle back into his nap. “Our plane leaves at ten.”

Patrick doesn’t say another word.

 

 

Patrick doesn’t bring up the trip to Cabo again, not until they’re waiting in the terminal for the plane, Penny in her stroller looking highly unhappy about the whole thing. She’s been grumpy since she woke up, uncharacteristic of her usual, easy-going personality, but she doesn’t have a temperature or a rash, and is probably, Patrick claims, upset that their weekly trip to the zoo has been cancelled.

“Are you sure—” he starts, fiddling with Penny’s diaper bag that he’s checked, and re-checked, and re-checked again.

“ _For the last time_ ,” Jonny grits, tipping his head back against the seat, taping his fingers nervously against the arm of his chair. “I need someone to watch Penny while I golf.”

Upon hearing her name, Penny begins to fuss. She isn’t really crying right now, but she’s making noises like she just might. Patrick gets her out of the stroller before she can really begin, bouncing her a bit to distract her. “You and Papa are kind of grumpy today, huh?”

Jonny lets out a heavy sigh, rolling his head to look at Patrick. “I’m sorry. It’s—” Jonny isn’t—he isn’t _afraid_ to fly, but it still makes him nervous, and usually he has Sharpy to annoy him enough to distract him from the fact that he’s actually flying, but Sharpy isn’t here, and he’s about to board a private jet with his nine-month-old-daughter who’s never flown before. “She’s never been on a plane,” he says.

Patrick gives him a look like he knows that there’s more, but he smartly keeps his suspicions to himself. “She’ll be okay,” he says, kissing the side of Penny’s face. “She’s got her Papa here, and her Patrick. Nothing to be afraid of, eh, Penny Baby?” Penny garbles something, turning her head away from Patrick’s attentions.

She cheers up a little when they finally board the plane, looking around at the space with wide eyes as Jonny takes his seat, and then starts to get fussy when Jonny won’t let her stand up on his knees for take-off. She really starts to throw a tantrum when the plane begins take-off, twisting in his arm as he clutches his seat, white-knuckled and fighting irritation and nerves all at the same time. He wants to let her fall to teach her a lesson, but that’s the petty, irrational, _stupid_ part of him. She’s a _baby_ , _his_ baby, and his number one priority in life is keeping her safe.

“Hey,” Patrick says quietly, moving from where he was sitting across from Jonny to right next to him, soft fingers forcing Jonny’s hand off the seat. He wraps his hand around Jonny’s, squeezing tight as he leans over to talk to Penny. “Hey, we have to sit nicely for take-off, and then you can climb all over Papa, okay?”

Penny is a baby and can’t be reasoned with, but Patrick always talks to her like she’s a person and not some sort of stupid toy. “ _Penny_ ,” he says when she starts to cry, sounding exasperated but still very much in love with his little charge.

Jonny doesn’t even think that she’s afraid by all the movement and her ears popping. She’s crying because she’s not getting her way, and Jonny doesn’t know which is worse.

Patrick tries to distract her with silly faces, which doesn’t work, because she’s Jonny’s daughter in every way, including her stubborn ferocity.

The terrible-twos are going to be _hell_.

Jonny gives in to her when the plane is in the air and settled because he’s weak and wrapped around her little, tiny, adorable baby fingers. He lets up his hold on her, keeping the hand that’s not—

The hand that’s not holding Patrick’s.

Jonny should jerk his hand away. It’s inappropriate, that’s what it is, to be holding hands with his daughter’s nanny, but—

He squeezes Patrick’s hand before he settles his free hand on Penny’s back as she fists her fingers into his shirt, pulling herself up to stand, smiling at him with her few teeth. She _knows_ that she’s gotten her way. “You’re horrible,” he tells her fondly. Penny only continues to grin, leaning in to give him a kiss before she starts to bounce happily.

“The terrible twos are going to be terrible for us,” Patrick comments, _still_ holding Jonny’s hand like it’s an every-day occurrence.

“Us?”

Patrick looks at him. He’s smiling happily, unfazed by the hand holding and the _us_. “Who else is going to watch Penny when you golf, Mr. Toews?”

“I—”

Patrick pushes the armrest up between them, leaning closer, shoulder knocking gently against Jonny’s as he slips his hand free, only to open his arms to Penny, who eagerly clambers her way off Jonny’s lap and onto Patrick’s. She turns to look at Jonny, one hand fisted in Patrick’s shirt, the other stuffed into her mouth. She looks content and happy, her whole world revolving around just the two of them.

Something seizes up around Jonny’s heart and doesn’t let go, not when they get off the plane, not when they check in to their rooms, and definitely not when Patrick decides to take Penny out to the pool, wading knee-deep in to the water. They’re both lathered in sunblock, white blotches across their cheeks, a pair of matching blue sunglasses balancing on their noses.

Patrick looks—

he looks like he _belongs_ out there, all his love and adoration for Penny shining through in his smile as he wades into the water, Penny smiling as her toes get wet, unbothered by the coldness of the water, all her trust wrapped up in Patrick. It must be so scary, to be somewhere brand new, in a giant pool of cold water, but she’s happy, feeling safe and calm as Patrick crouches down and submerges her little body in the water. She reacts in delight, smiling and kicking her legs in joy and Patrick is smiling right back, spinning around in the water.

Patrick is expected to at least _like_ Penny, not apparently love her with his whole heart and soul after only three months, and Penny’s definitely not supposed to love him so much right back. She’s a baby, and her perception of love is extremely askew, but Jonny is sure that her life would drastically change if Patrick were to leave her.

To leave _them_.

Whatever affection he has for Patrick that is slowly clawing its way into his stomach and up to his heart needs to stop because Penny needs someone to love her when Jonny can’t be there.

Stopping the overwhelming affection growing inside of him is harder said than done, especially when Patrick pins him with one of his blindingly bright smiles. “Come join us Papa!” he yells on behalf of Penny, waving her arm back and forth excitedly as she kicks her legs with glee.

Jonny shouldn’t join them. He should go and play golf with Seabs. He brought Patrick along so he could go play golf with Seabs.

They shouldn’t be doing family _things_.

Jonny stripes off his shirt and jumps in the pool.

 

 

Family-team dinner is something that the team has been doing for a few years now, along with the group trip to Cabo. Not everyone goes to Mexico, but there’s always a few of them that do, bringing along their wives and girlfriends and kids to get together and do something that isn’t hockey related.

A dinner every night is always a staple part of the trip.

Jonny has never brought anyone to dinner since the team started going to Cabo for bi-week, but tonight he has Penny in her prettiest sundress and bowknot headband, and Patrick, who has a blotch of aloe vera on his nose to treat his sunburn.

He doesn’t need help with Penny at dinner, and it’s actually past Patrick’s working hours, but it felt wrong to leave him in his hotel room while the rest of them went to the restaurant to dine, despite the fact that Jonny’s done exactly that to hook-ups he’s brought along on the trip before.

This is—Patrick’s _different_. He’s practically—well. He’s _family_.

Patrick _should_ spend all of dinner joking with Dominik and playfully flirting with Abby and Dayna, but instead he spends it co-parenting with Jonny, switching his attention from flicking food at Henri and making sure that Penny doesn’t choke on her Cheerios.

Patrick _shouldn’t_ be working, but Jonny’s long given up on trying to make him leave Penny alone past hours. It’s a bad habit, since he spends almost all of his time taking care of her anyway, but Jonny can’t blame him. Penny _is_ adorable, and it’s impossible not to fall in love with her.

After dinner, Jonny settles Penny in her crib. It’s past her bedtime, so she goes down without much of a fuss, falling asleep on her back within minutes. Jonny watches her for a little longer to make sure that she’s still breathing before he finally decides that she’ll be alright.

Patrick’s in the little living room that connects their rooms. He’s in his swim shorts again, aloe vera still on his nose. “I’m going to take a nighttime dip,” he explains, towel thrown over his shoulder. He hesitates for just a second. “You wanna join me?”

“It’s late,” Jonny says, matter-of-fact.

Disappointment sweeps across Patrick’s face, even in the dim light from the sole lamp in the room. “Oh,” he says, looking down at the floor. “I thought we—”

“—could spend some time together?” Jonny interrupts.

Patrick nods, looking at Jonny earnestly. “We don’t hang out, unless Penny’s there.”

It’s easier to let Patrick down than to give in to impulse. “I’m your boss, Patrick. We’re not supposed to hang out.”

Patrick’s mouth goes into a straight line, looking crestfallen. He sets the towel down on a chair, refusing to meet Jonny’s eyes. “I’m sorry, Mr. Toews.”

Jonny feels guilt clawing at his insides. Patrick looks devastated and embarrassed and it’s a horrible look on him. He could conquer the world, if he cared enough to. “Patrick.”

“I thought—” Patrick starts, and then immediately stops.

“You’re Penny’s nanny.”

“I know,” Patrick replies quietly. “But—”

Jonny takes two steps forward, cutting the space between them. “You want to be friends?” He knows the answer already, suspects, maybe, that Patrick wants _more_ , but that is something dangerous and inappropriate. There’s a line that Jonny _shouldn’t_ cross; Patrick, is by all accounts and purposes, his _employee_. It’s a gross injustice of power for Jonny to initiate anything between them, but that doesn’t stop him from stepping even closer.

“Mr. Toews?” Patrick asks, looking at Jonny from under the long sweep of his pretty blond eyelashes. There’s a nervous energy filling the room, and Jonny can’t ignore it any more. He surges forward, capturing Patrick’s mouth in a kiss.

Patrick gasps, whole body going still and oh—maybe, _maybe_ Jonny read the energy wrong, all of Patrick little hints meaning nothing, but then Patrick relaxes, sighing into the kiss, pushing his tongue into Jonny’s mouth, all of his inexperience evident. That inexperience should turn Jonny away, but it turns him on more, and he cups Patrick’s face to deepen the kiss, backing him up against the wall.

“Mr. Toews,” Patrick breathes when they break for air, eyes dilated. “Mr. Toews, I—”

“Jonny. Call me Jonny.”

Patrick swallows, searching his face. “Jonny.”

Jonny captures his mouth in a kiss again, and this time it’s Patrick who presses for more, fingers clutching Jonny’s shirt, moaning when Jonny takes him by the hips, squeezing. He slots his leg between Patrick’s thighs, eliciting another gasp out of him. “ _Jonny_ ,” Patrick moans as Jonny leaves his mouth alone to work his way down Patrick’s throat and over his collarbones.

Patrick tips his head back against the wall, and Jonny can feel his breaths coming out rapid as he drops to his knees, kissing down Patrick’s chest and right to his belly button.

“ _Jonny_ ,” Patrick breathes as Jonny dips his thumbs under the waist band of his swimming shorts, tugging them to Patrick’s knees. Patrick is hard, leaking, fingers nervously settling on Jonny’s shoulders before they travel up the back of his neck. “Jonny. I’ve never—”

“I know,” Jonny murmurs, kissing Patrick’s hipbone as he wraps a warm hand around his cock. “I’ve got you.”

Patrick groans, the noise vibrating through the room. “Be quiet,” Jonny whispers, doing nothing to help as he pumps his hand, smearing Patrick’s pre-come across the head with his thumb. Patrick whines, and then clamps down on his bottom lip, thighs shaking as he holds himself up. Jonny watches him, hand stroking back and forth, grip tight. “You’re beautiful,” he says, kissing Patrick’s hip.

Patrick looks down at him, mouth open wide again, lips red from where he’s been biting them. He looks so perfect already, so debauched, and Jonny’s barely done anything to him but stroke his cock and call him pretty. Jonny kisses Patrick’s hip again, tracing a line with his tongue down the bone to his thigh. Patrick gasps, fingers digging into Jonny’s hair.

Jonny watches Patrick’s face as he trails his tongue over his pelvis and straight down his cock, stopping to tongue the slit at the head. Patrick cries out, mouth opening as he slams his head back against the wall, grip tightening. “ _Jonny_ ,” he moans, legs shaking, sliding down the wall as Jonny sucks the head into his mouth, fingers sneaking up to trace over Patrick’s balls. Patrick moans again, louder this time, breathing heavily through his nose. “ _Jonny_.”

Jonny bobs his head, swallowing Patrick down in one go, tasting pre-come on the tip of his tongue. Patrick is moaning obscenely loud, loud enough to wake a certain someone that Jonny will not think about right now. “Bedroom,” he demands, standing with little finesse.

Patrick nods dumbly, stepping out of his swim trunks. He’s pale all over, freckles on his hips and down his skinny legs. He follows Jonny into the bedroom, closing the door behind him with a click, his eyes immediately sweeping to the baby monitor where Penny is still fast asleep.

Jonny can’t turn the monitor off, but he does turn it to face the wall, turning the volume all the way up so they can hear if Penny wakes.

Despite how fucking wrong it is to fuck Patrick, at least he doesn’t have to hide the baby monitor.

He sheds his shirt before he backs Patrick up, Patrick’s knees hitting the bed and splaying open as he falls backwards. Jonny is between his legs in seconds, cupping his face to kiss him. “I’m going to fuck you,” he says against Patrick’s mouth.

“Yeah, okay,” Patrick nods, breathless. “Are you going to get naked?”

Jonathan laughs, stepping away to push down his shorts and underwear in one go. Patrick watches him, eyes wide and curious, pupils dilated. “Shit,” he says in aw, reaching out to trace his hands over Jonny’s thighs and up over his hips. “There were rumors…”

“Rumors?”

“Yeah,” Patrick grins, scooting backwards on the bed as Jonny works his way between his thighs again. He gasps as Jonny settles his weight on top of him, cocks dragging together. “That you were hung.”

Jonny props himself up, frowning. “You looked up rumors about me on the internet?”

Patrick shrugs, blond curls fawning out over the pillow. He’s pretty like this, blue eyes big and trusting. He reaches up, cupping Jonny’s jaw before he sits up enough to kiss him. “It’s right there, right under your stats.”

Jonny frowns harder.

Patrick laughs, gaining back the confidence he was lacking only minutes ago. “I’m only kidding. It’s at least on the third page.”

“You’re not funny,” Jonny says.

Patrick smiles, letting Jonny kiss his mouth and then his throat, sighing almost happily as Jonny works his way down his chest, stopping to bite a rosy nipple and draw a moan out of Patrick before he sucks a bruise into his thigh.

Patrick’s thighs are shaking when Jonny’s done leaving his mark, and he knows, instinctively, that Patrick is some sort of virgin. Maybe he’s fucked a couple of girls before, but he’s never been with a guy, and even knowing that, Jonny pushes his knees up to his chest, instructing him to keep them there as he slides down the bed.

“Jonny?” Patrick asks, face curious but trusting, even with the most intimate part of him exposed for Jonny’s view.

“Quiet,” Jonny commands as he leans forward, spreading Patrick open with his thumbs. He looks up at Patrick as he takes the first tenative lick, grinning against his skin as Patrick shudders. “ _Jonny_.”

Jonny continues to watch his face as he licks again, dragging his tongue across Patrick’s hole before he dips in, flicking his tongue back and forth, letting spit pool at the end of his tongue. Patrick whines, legs spreading wider, teeth dug into his bottom lip as his fingers shake on the back of his knees. “ _Jonny_ , _Jonny_ , _Jonny_ ,” he whines in a mantra, eyes pinpointed to Jonny’s face where he’s eating him out.

“Quiet,” Jonny murmurs again, swirling his tongue before he pushes against the tight ring of muscle, Patrick’s body giving in to him so easily. Patrick gasps before letting out the sweetest, breathiest moans, completely giving up on being quiet, spurring Jonny on to fuck him with his tongue.

Patrick is sweating by the time Jonny pulls his head away, hole wet, thighs shaking, cock leaking a steady flow of pre-come against his belly. Jonny settles his weight on top of him, kissing Patrick long and hard until Patrick’s thighs stop shaking. “I’m going to fuck you,” he says against his mouth, sitting back enough to watch Patrick’s face. He’s giving him a way out, a chance to change his mind, and Jonny won’t be mad. He’ll let Patrick go back to his room, or stay, whatever he’s comfortable with because he might be a horrible person for fucking his daughter’s barely legal nanny, but he’s not a complete fucking asshole.

Patrick’s face is open, mouth soft and eyes so very trusting. “I’m a virgin,” he admits, cheeks turning red with embarrassment. “I’ve fooled around but I’ve never—not even with a girl.” Jonny cups Patrick’s face, smoothing his thumb comfortingly back and forth across his cheek. “You’ll take care of me?”

Jonny shouldn’t. He _shouldn’t_.

Jonny lost own his virginity when he was seventeen. It’s a foggy memory that he doesn’t look back on and has no emotional connection to, not now at least. But he’s thirty-two and fifteen years removed from the experience with a whole row of sexual partners under his belt, and doesn’t have the emotional range of a teenager.

Taking Patrick’s virginity might just ruin any and all sexual experiences he has for the next few years, leaving him emotionally stunted and unable to form any real relationships.

“I’ll take care of you,” Jonny says, voice low and soft. “Tell me if you want to stop.”

Patrick nods, taking one shaky breath as Jonny climbs off of him to retrieve the condoms he always keeps in his suitcase and a packet of lube. Patrick is still breathing shakily when Jonny returns, but he stuffs a pillow under his lips and spreads his legs, watching Jonny under his eyelashes. “I’ve fingered myself,” he says helpfully when Jonny kisses his knee.

“Slut,” Jonny says fondly before he tears the packet of lube open with his teeth. Patrick grins, a bit lopsided, but it slips away when Jonny presses his finger against his hole. He frowns slightly, like he’s not quite sure of the sensation of another person’s finger down there, but Jonny kisses him to distract him, moving his lubed finger back and forth before he presses just the knuckle in. Patrick sucks a breath between his teeth, canting his hips for more, and Jonny gives it to him, sliding his finger in to the last knuckle.

“You okay?” he asks as he works the finger in and out, watching Patrick’s face, but Patrick only looks slightly uncomfortable, not terrified or like he’s trying to hide his level of comfort.

Patrick nods. “It’s weird,” he says, closing his eyes for only a second. “It’s weird when it’s someone else’s finger.”

Jonny only hums his agreement, deciding to gently pinch Patrick’s nipples as he slips a second finger in alongside the first. Patrick grunts at the new sensation, but it turns into a moan quickly as Jonny crooks his fingers, finger pads rubbing across his prostate. “Shit,” he says, and then again when Jonny withdraws his fingers and finds his prostate again. “ _Shit_.”

Jonny grins, withdrawing his fingers just to return with a third. Patrick actually keens this time, a sweet little noise as he arches his back, fingers leaving the bed where they’ve been clutching the sheets to scrabble down Jonny’s back. “ _Fuck_ ,” he says right against Jonny’s ear, wet lips dragging across his skin. “Jonny, _please_.”

Jonny slowly withdraws his fingers, wiping them on the bed before he reaches for a condom. He rolls it on quickly, scooping the rest of the lube out of the packet and covering his dick with it. He hikes one of Patrick’s legs over his hip and the other on his shoulder, kissing him as he lines up. “Tell me if you need to stop,” he whispers as he pushes in, swallowing Patrick’s cry as he sinks in to the hilt, keeping himself still to let Patrick get used to the sensation, blood pounding in his ears. Patrick’s all tight, wet, heat, and it’s taking everything in him not to pound away, but he stays still, waiting for Patrick to stop clenching him so tight that it feels like his dick might fall off and relax.

“You’re alright,” Jonny murmurs, shifting. Patrick gasps against his mouth, arms locking around his shoulders. “Shh, you’re alright.”

“Move,” Patrick demands, but there isn’t any bite in his words. “I can— _move_.”

Jonny doesn’t have to be told twice. He lifts himself up, pulling his hips back gently before he rocks back in, thrusts tentative, eyes on Patrick’s face. Patrick’s mouth is wide open, lips swollen from biting them and being kissed, and he looks blissed out, all of his attention centered on Jonny and Jonny’s dick in his ass. He’s sweet like this, nails digging into Jonny’s shoulder’s as Jonny fucks him harder, faster, deeper.

“Good, yeah?” Jonny laughs against his mouth and Patrick bites his lip back in retaliation, lifting his hips to meet every thrust, moaning loud and sharp into the dark room. “Jonny,” he moans, hand on the back of his head so Jonny can’t go anywhere, can’t do anything but fuck him and kiss him and Jonny should have known, should have taken one look at Patrick and _known_. He was molded for Jonny, shaped out of clay until his legs were long enough and his mouth soft enough and his body ready for anything Jonny could give him.

He fucks into Patrick, biting at his mouth, holding his hip strong enough to bruise while his other hand is dug into his hair, forcing his head tilted at an angle for Jonny’s lips and teeth.

After this, he thinks, he won’t be able to let Patrick go. He’ll keep Patrick trapped under him for forever, until he’s ninety-five and can’t move anymore, and he thinks that Patrick will gladly stay there, happy and content with his sweet smiles and the acne on his nose.

“ _Jonny_ ,” Patrick whines, and then he’s coming, whole body drawing up tight, hot, white splatters of come across his belly and Jonny’s too, and Jonny doesn’t even have his hand on him, just his cock up his ass and on his prostate. Oh he’s sweet, oh so _sweet_.

Jonny keeps fucking him, keeps listening to the sweet, choked off moans he makes as Jonny holds him still and uses his body until all the blood comes rushing into his ears all at once and he comes, slamming his hips in and keeping them there, and when they get back to Chicago he’s getting tested and Patrick too, and then he’s going to fuck him real good, condom-less and wet and dirty until Patrick knows who he belongs to.

He manages to hold himself up long enough to pull out, kissing Patrick’s cheeks and his open mouth at his pitiful little whines of protest. Jonny ties the condom off and discards it in the trash, and then he crawls back into bed, where Patrick greets him with a kiss and rolls on top of him, legs tangled together as he lays his head on Jonny’s chest, clingy.

Jonny digs his fingers into Patrick’s hair, tugging gently on the sweaty curls. It’s not until Patrick falls asleep, snorting lightly and drooling on his skin, that Jonny allows himself to sit up enough to turn the baby monitor around. Penny is snug in her crib, still fast asleep.

Jonny rubs his hands across his face in distress.

He might have a higher emotional range than the average teenager, but he has the impulse control of a toddler. Penny’s not even a year old and he’s already ruined an important relationship in her life that could have carried on well into her elementary school years. She might just be baby, but she’ll notice when Patrick stops being the first face she sees in the morning.

“Jonny?” Patrick says quietly, voice heavy from sleep, but it jolts Jonny straight out of his thoughts. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Jonny lies, managing to twist and turn them until Patrick is under him, safe for now. “Go back to sleep.”

“Okay,” Patrick breathes, pulling Jonny closer. “Okay.”

 

 

Jonny feels Patrick move a few hours later, lifting his arms and grumbling about mouth-breathers as he works his way out from under Jonny. He’s gone long enough for Jonny to fall back asleep, but it’s interrupted only a few minutes later.

“Wake up!” Patrick yells, startling Jonny straight out of sleep so fast that he almost falls out of bed. He doesn’t even have time to stuff his heart back into his throat before Patrick is climbing onto the bed, Penny in his arms.

He sets Penny down, and she gives Jonny a mostly-gummy smile before she attempts to climb onto his back. “Penny, no,” Patrick says, lifting her and then setting her back down so that she’s facing Jonny outright. “Tell Papa what you told me.”

“Patrick, she’s—”

“Pa pa,” Penny interrupts, looking non-too pleased about being rearranged. “Pa pa,” she repeats as she tries to grab fists of his skin to pull herself up.

Jonny is stunned into silence.

Penny garbles to herself, managing to stand on the flimsy mattress before she flops across his back.

“You,” Jonny says.

“She’s speaking,” Patrick says proudly as he climbs into bed, acting very much like it’s an everyday occurrence and like he belongs there. He takes Penny off Jonny’s back, letting her stand on his knees, hand loosely at her sides in case she falls. “She was standing up in her crib when I went to wake her, and she looked me dead in the eye and said ‘papa’.”

“She’s speaking now, so she’ll probably start walking soon.”

“You said that about her crawling and she didn’t crawl for another two weeks,” Jonny says, unable to find the energy to get up or to even have a conversation with Patrick about what happened last night. It doesn’t feel right with Penny in the room. She’s a baby, but she still shouldn’t have to hear about her dad having sex, especially not with her nanny.

They crossed the line of no return last night, where Jonny abused his power as Patrick’s boss, but this morning feels awfully domestic, and surprisingly very _right_.

Patrick, though, has other plans. “I quit.”

Jonny sits up, very slowly. “You quit.”

“Hmm,” Patrick confirms, making silly faces at Penny, who says _pa pa_ and then more gibberish.

“You quit,” Jonny says again.

“Yep, I quit.”

Jonny is frozen in disbelief. He thought—well, he _knew_ that he was going to have to let Patrick go. He fucked him and he ruined him and he can’t keep Patrick under his roof and pay him to watch his daughter too, because that’s one of the grossest abuses of power Jonny has ever heard of.

He’s stunned into disbelief because he didn’t think that Patrick would have the sense to _quit_.

“You quit.”

Patrick rolls his head to look at Jonny, mouth stern. “I quit.”

Jonny opens and closes his mouth a few times. Penny lurches forward, making grabby hands for him. “Pa pa,” she says, not understanding the seriousness of the situation. Jonny takes her but sets her down between them, handing his phone of the bedside table to distract her.

“Patrick—”

“It’s against the code of ethics for you to employee me and for us to be in a relationship,” Patrick says, matter-of-fact.

“To be in a relationship,” Jonny repeats stupidly.

Patrick rolls his eyes. “Is Papa always this dumb, Pens?” he asks, tickling Penny’s stomach. Penny screams her joy.

“You—Patrick—we—”

“I’m not letting you just hit it and quit it,” says Patrick, pouting. “We’re _family_.”

“You’re Penny’s nanny.”

“I’m _not_. I just quit. Don’t you listen?”

Jonny sets his mouth in a straight line, confused about how this conversation has gone.

“Penny’s still my baby, so you don’t have to hire a new nanny, I’ll just watch her for free.”

“That’s not how these things work,” says Jonny, still very dumbfounded.

Patrick turns over, leaning over Penny to press his mouth against Jonny’s. On impulse, Jonny kisses him back, cupping the back of his head and keeping him there. “This is how it’s going to work for us,” says Patrick against his mouth when they break apart, his voice stern and confident like Jonny doesn’t have a choice.

Penny garbless unhappily between them, reaching up with her little fingers to break them apart because she’s not getting any attention. “Brat,” Patrick tells her fondly, pulling her onto his lap.

“Pa pa,” Penny replies, looking right at Jonny with her big brown eyes and mostly gummy smile, happy and content and her whole world just revolving around them, and well, Jonny’s heard of stupider love stories, so he resolves himself to his fate, sitting up against the headboard to watch Penny pepper her ex-nanny-now-dad’s-lover with kisses, and lets himself be happy.


End file.
